Coaching the Stars.

But two things had happened this season to jeopardize his dreams. One was his own fault—the crazy recklessness that had hit him right after training camp. He’d always had a reckless streak but, until now, he’d restricted it to off season. The other was Daphne Somerville’s midnight visit to his bedroom. That had done more to jeopardize his career than all the skydiving and dirt-bike racing in the world.

He was a sound sleeper, and it hadn’t been the first time he’d awakened in the middle of making love, but up until then he’d always chosen his partners. Ironically, if it hadn’t been for her family connections, he might have thought about choosing her. Maybe it was the appeal of forbidden fruit, but he’d had a great time with her. She’d kept him on his toes and made him laugh. Although he’d been careful not to let her see it, he’d found himself watching her. She moved with a rich girl’s confidence he’d found sexy. Her body might not be flashy, but everything was in the right place, and he’d definitely noticed.

Even so, he’d kept his distance. She was the boss’s sister, and he never fraternized with women connected with the team—no coaches’ daughters, front-office secretaries, or even teammates’ cousins. Despite that, look what had happened.

Just thinking about it made him angry all over again. Not even a hotshot quarterback was more important to the Calebows than family, and if they ever found out what had happened, he was the one they’d be coming after for explanations.

His conscience was going to force him to call her soon. Just once to make certain there hadn’t been any consequences. There wouldn’t be, he told himself, and he wasn’t going to worry about it, especially now, when he couldn’t afford any distractions. On Sunday, they were playing in the AFC Championship, and his game had to be flawless. Then his ultimate dream would come true. He’d be taking the Stars to the Super Bowl.

But six days later his dream was snatched away. And he had no one to blame but himself.

By working day and night, Molly finished Daphne Takes a Tumble and put it in the mail the same week the Stars lost the AFC Championship. With fifteen seconds left on the clock, Kevin Tucker had refused to play it safe and thrown into double coverage. His pass was intercepted, and the Stars had lost by a field goal.

Molly fixed herself a cup of tea to ward off the chill of the January evening and took it over to her worktable. She had an article due for Chik, but instead of turning on her laptop, she picked up the legal pad she’d left on the couch to jot down some ideas she had for a new book, Daphne Finds a Baby Rabbit.

The telephone rang just as she sat down. “Hello.”

“Daphne? It’s Kevin Tucker.”

Tea splashed into the saucer, and the breath went out of her. Once she’d had a crush on this man. Now just the sound of his voice terrified her.